Table of Contents
- When natural beauty starts to feel like a flaw
- The impact of comments about physical appearance
- When you get tired of fighting your own reflection
- A self-acceptance exercise for looking at your imperfections with tenderness
- How to change the way you speak to yourself in the mirror
- Your features tell a story, not a mistake
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Déjame compartir una experience with you.
I remember when I was a child and walked down the makeup aisle in stores with dim lights. Everything seemed curious to me: the little brushes, the powders, the pencils, the tiny jars. I felt that those objects could transform a person into creator and creation at the same time.
But there was one product that always caught my attention: eyeshadow.
I didn’t want it. I didn’t feel the need to use it. But I was intrigued by it.
I found the idea of adding color around the eyes beautiful, as if the face were a canvas and every look could tell a different story.
When I saw purple eyeshadow, my teenage pride swelled a little. I already had that color around my eyes naturally. I had been born with it. I called it, with a certain innocence, “inherited makeup.”
For a moment, I felt pretty. Truly pretty.
Then I saw eye creams. In particular, concealer for dark circles.
Concealer.
That word stuck with me.
That was when I began to question my appearance for the first time.
Why would something so natural to my body, something I had never noticed as bad, suddenly need to be corrected and covered up? Could anyone really think that the delicate skin around my eyes was horrible?
That was the beginning of an uncomfortable journey. A journey in which I tried to hide the face I had been born with.
If I didn’t have time to put makeup under my eyes, I wore glasses to shift attention away. I wanted to avoid anyone looking too closely at my dark circles. I wanted to avoid my face being considered “too dark,” “too tired,” or simply “wrong.”
And the saddest part is that, before hearing those ideas from outside, I did not hate that part of myself.
Sometimes it happens like that. We are not born rejecting our bodies. Many times we learn to do so through comments, comparisons, ads, filters, looks, or careless phrases.
Once I stared at my dark circles in the mirror with contempt for a long time. All because a boy I didn’t even like had said that dark circles were disgusting.
He was talking about James Dean backstage, during a music rehearsal.
“Ew,” he said. “Dark circles make him ugly.”
He wasn’t talking about me. But my mind took it as if he had pointed at my face.
One morning I woke up, looked at myself in the mirror, and for some reason I didn’t hate the dark circles that day. I saw myself as human. I saw myself as real. I even worked up the courage to go to school without makeup.
But that little bravery didn’t last long.
A teacher told me I looked tired. Then one of the prettiest girls at school asked me if I felt sick.
I suppose that day I looked sick and tired. Or maybe I just looked like myself.
What’s ironic is that, after those seemingly harmless comments, I did feel sick and tired. Not because of how I looked, but because of the shame that was triggered inside me.
I started wondering what else people didn’t like about my face.
Were my beauty marks not beautiful after all? Did the little freckle under my right eye bother someone? If anyone got close enough to notice the tiny chip in my tooth, would they grimace?
There came a point when no part of my body seemed safe from criticism. Not even the parts I had once loved.
That is often how insecurity works: it starts with one detail and then tries to take over everything.
Eventually, I felt exhaustion take over.
It wasn’t just physical tiredness. It was the exhaustion of constantly monitoring myself. Of checking my face in every mirror. Of wondering whether someone was looking right at the thing I was trying to hide.
I asked myself whether I would ever share all those “truths” about myself with another person, the ones that felt offensive to me.
The answer was clear and immediate: no. I would not do that for any reason.
Then another question appeared, much more important:
If I wouldn’t talk to another person that way, why was I allowing myself to believe I should hate myself?
It was time to look at my self-esteem honestly. Not to pretend I had perfect confidence. Not to tell myself pretty phrases I didn’t believe. But to begin treating myself with a little more respect.
If you are going through something similar, it may also help to read about how to begin self-acceptance by focusing on what you love. Sometimes it is not about loving everything all at once, but about stopping the daily attack against yourself.
I decided to take matters into my own hands and made an inventory of all the features I hated about myself.
The first thing that appeared on my page was my dark circles.
That’s where the task began. But that’s also where the war could end.
Instead of seeing them as blemishes, I began to imagine my dark circles as tiny moons in the space beneath my eyes. Like a soft mystery around the windows of my soul.
And you know what? I could also choose to see them as a feature inherited from my family. A mark of history. A trace of blood, sleep, memory, and life.
I didn’t need to turn them into a flaw for the world to understand them. I didn’t need to cover them every day to deserve feeling presentable.
Of course I can wear makeup if I want to. I can play with colors, textures, and shimmer. The problem wasn’t makeup. The problem was using it out of fear, as if my natural face were something I had to apologize for.
The difference is enormous: one thing is adorning yourself because you enjoy it, and quite another is hiding yourself out of shame.
If you struggle today to accept a part of yourself, start by paying attention to the language you use with yourself.
You do not have to go from “I hate this” to “I love this” in one minute. That leap can feel fake. But you can try more kind and realistic phrases:
You can also write down what you feel. Putting it on paper helps quiet the noise in your mind. If this idea helps you, this article about how keeping a private journal helps you grow from within may guide you with a simple and very human resource.
And if you discover that your insecurity comes from old wounds, repeated criticism, or impossible demands, do not judge yourself. Sometimes we need time, support, and new experiences to rebuild our relationship with our bodies.
For anyone who resists their own particular traits, I want to say this with care.
Maybe you have one eyebrow higher than the other. A mark under your chin. A scar on your forehead from a poorly healed childhood accident. A nose that doesn’t fit fashion standards. Stretch marks. Freckles. Spots. Imperfect teeth. Dark circles. Folds. Texture.
None of that makes you less valuable.
Imperfection, when we stop looking at it with cruelty, can become deeply magnificent. It can be memory. It can be character. It can be identity.
You can even become a detective of your own story, a magician who transforms the gaze, an artist who creates beauty simply by being who she is.
To go deeper into this path, discovering your true self, even when it feels uncomfortable may also accompany you. Because accepting yourself is not always comfortable, but it is often liberating.
Today I choose to look at my dark circles differently.
Not as a flaw.
Not as something I must correct before going out into the world.
But as little moons of my own. As a soft shadow that also belongs to my light. 🌙
Dear heart, your dark circles are beautiful. And you do not need to erase yourself to deserve love.
I remember when I was a child and walked down the makeup aisle in stores with dim lights. Everything seemed curious to me: the little brushes, the powders, the pencils, the tiny jars. I felt that those objects could transform a person into creator and creation at the same time.
But there was one product that always caught my attention: eyeshadow.
I didn’t want it. I didn’t feel the need to use it. But I was intrigued by it.
I found the idea of adding color around the eyes beautiful, as if the face were a canvas and every look could tell a different story.
When I saw purple eyeshadow, my teenage pride swelled a little. I already had that color around my eyes naturally. I had been born with it. I called it, with a certain innocence, “inherited makeup.”
For a moment, I felt pretty. Truly pretty.
When natural beauty starts to feel like a flaw
Then I saw eye creams. In particular, concealer for dark circles.
Concealer.
That word stuck with me.
That was when I began to question my appearance for the first time.
Why would something so natural to my body, something I had never noticed as bad, suddenly need to be corrected and covered up? Could anyone really think that the delicate skin around my eyes was horrible?
That was the beginning of an uncomfortable journey. A journey in which I tried to hide the face I had been born with.
If I didn’t have time to put makeup under my eyes, I wore glasses to shift attention away. I wanted to avoid anyone looking too closely at my dark circles. I wanted to avoid my face being considered “too dark,” “too tired,” or simply “wrong.”
And the saddest part is that, before hearing those ideas from outside, I did not hate that part of myself.
Sometimes it happens like that. We are not born rejecting our bodies. Many times we learn to do so through comments, comparisons, ads, filters, looks, or careless phrases.
The impact of comments about physical appearance
Once I stared at my dark circles in the mirror with contempt for a long time. All because a boy I didn’t even like had said that dark circles were disgusting.
He was talking about James Dean backstage, during a music rehearsal.
“Ew,” he said. “Dark circles make him ugly.”
He wasn’t talking about me. But my mind took it as if he had pointed at my face.
One morning I woke up, looked at myself in the mirror, and for some reason I didn’t hate the dark circles that day. I saw myself as human. I saw myself as real. I even worked up the courage to go to school without makeup.
But that little bravery didn’t last long.
A teacher told me I looked tired. Then one of the prettiest girls at school asked me if I felt sick.
I suppose that day I looked sick and tired. Or maybe I just looked like myself.
What’s ironic is that, after those seemingly harmless comments, I did feel sick and tired. Not because of how I looked, but because of the shame that was triggered inside me.
I started wondering what else people didn’t like about my face.
Were my beauty marks not beautiful after all? Did the little freckle under my right eye bother someone? If anyone got close enough to notice the tiny chip in my tooth, would they grimace?
There came a point when no part of my body seemed safe from criticism. Not even the parts I had once loved.
That is often how insecurity works: it starts with one detail and then tries to take over everything.
When you get tired of fighting your own reflection
Eventually, I felt exhaustion take over.
It wasn’t just physical tiredness. It was the exhaustion of constantly monitoring myself. Of checking my face in every mirror. Of wondering whether someone was looking right at the thing I was trying to hide.
I asked myself whether I would ever share all those “truths” about myself with another person, the ones that felt offensive to me.
The answer was clear and immediate: no. I would not do that for any reason.
Then another question appeared, much more important:
If I wouldn’t talk to another person that way, why was I allowing myself to believe I should hate myself?
It was time to look at my self-esteem honestly. Not to pretend I had perfect confidence. Not to tell myself pretty phrases I didn’t believe. But to begin treating myself with a little more respect.
If you are going through something similar, it may also help to read about how to begin self-acceptance by focusing on what you love. Sometimes it is not about loving everything all at once, but about stopping the daily attack against yourself.
A self-acceptance exercise for looking at your imperfections with tenderness
I decided to take matters into my own hands and made an inventory of all the features I hated about myself.
The first thing that appeared on my page was my dark circles.
That’s where the task began. But that’s also where the war could end.
Instead of seeing them as blemishes, I began to imagine my dark circles as tiny moons in the space beneath my eyes. Like a soft mystery around the windows of my soul.
And you know what? I could also choose to see them as a feature inherited from my family. A mark of history. A trace of blood, sleep, memory, and life.
I didn’t need to turn them into a flaw for the world to understand them. I didn’t need to cover them every day to deserve feeling presentable.
Of course I can wear makeup if I want to. I can play with colors, textures, and shimmer. The problem wasn’t makeup. The problem was using it out of fear, as if my natural face were something I had to apologize for.
The difference is enormous: one thing is adorning yourself because you enjoy it, and quite another is hiding yourself out of shame.
How to change the way you speak to yourself in the mirror
If you struggle today to accept a part of yourself, start by paying attention to the language you use with yourself.
You do not have to go from “I hate this” to “I love this” in one minute. That leap can feel fake. But you can try more kind and realistic phrases:
- “This part of me exists, and I don’t need to punish it.”
- “My face doesn’t have to please everyone to deserve respect.”
- “I can care for myself without rejecting myself.”
- “My beauty does not depend on erasing every natural feature.”
You can also write down what you feel. Putting it on paper helps quiet the noise in your mind. If this idea helps you, this article about how keeping a private journal helps you grow from within may guide you with a simple and very human resource.
And if you discover that your insecurity comes from old wounds, repeated criticism, or impossible demands, do not judge yourself. Sometimes we need time, support, and new experiences to rebuild our relationship with our bodies.
Your features tell a story, not a mistake
For anyone who resists their own particular traits, I want to say this with care.
Maybe you have one eyebrow higher than the other. A mark under your chin. A scar on your forehead from a poorly healed childhood accident. A nose that doesn’t fit fashion standards. Stretch marks. Freckles. Spots. Imperfect teeth. Dark circles. Folds. Texture.
None of that makes you less valuable.
Imperfection, when we stop looking at it with cruelty, can become deeply magnificent. It can be memory. It can be character. It can be identity.
You can even become a detective of your own story, a magician who transforms the gaze, an artist who creates beauty simply by being who she is.
To go deeper into this path, discovering your true self, even when it feels uncomfortable may also accompany you. Because accepting yourself is not always comfortable, but it is often liberating.
Today I choose to look at my dark circles differently.
Not as a flaw.
Not as something I must correct before going out into the world.
But as little moons of my own. As a soft shadow that also belongs to my light. 🌙
Dear heart, your dark circles are beautiful. And you do not need to erase yourself to deserve love.
